


Faithless

by Liron_aria



Series: The Sam Winchester School of Hunting [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean's still kind of a dick, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Takes place after Demon Heart, Undemonified Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2158422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liron_aria/pseuds/Liron_aria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freshly undemonified, Dean comes face-to-face with the trust he's broken and the faith he's lost. No one besides Sam and Cas is very keen on making it easy for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faithless

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Dean and Cas have already met Jacob and Claire, which ended violently, and Cas has also already met Jesse, which ended less violently. Also, words inside brackets are Higher Enochian, which damages Sam's internal organs when he speaks it, especially his throat.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did, Sam would get a ton more screen time, meaningful relationships with other characters, and Jess. Jess would come back.
> 
> But that is neither here nor there, so please, sit back and enjoy!

Sam sighs as he looks at Dean, lying still on the bed. Jesse’d put him in stasis once the ritual was done, and Sam had ushered the teens out to rest and clean themselves up while he calls on the angels to heal Dean. Sam closes his eyes and prays.

“Hey Cas? It’s, uh, it’s done. The ritual worked. If you - or an angel with their own grace - could come down and help, that would be awesome. Please. Amen.”

There’s silence following Sam’s short prayer, and Sam remembers when he returned from the Cage, how much he begged and pleaded and screamed for Cas to come down, for _anyone_ to come down and give him some answers, some idea of where to _look_ for answers. There’s another reason he sent the teens away; he doesn’t want them to have to see him desperate and begging anymore than they already have. And if his past is any indication, he has a lot of praying and begging to do before an angel answers him.

Sam closes his eyes again, bowing his head and resting his forehead against his clasped hands. “Cas, if you can hear me, it’s Dean. He really needs you, Cas, there’s not much left that I can do. _Please_ , Cas, I know I have no right to ask this of you after everything you’ve already sacrificed for us, I know how busy you are -“

Sam looks up sharply at the soft sound of wings, and Castiel and Hannah stand before him.

Well. That’s unexpected.

“Cas - uh. Hi. I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything…”

Castiel shakes his head. “How’s Dean?”

Sam gestures to the bed behind the angel. “Jesse put him in stasis. He needs healing once we take it off, or - or he’ll…”

Sam trails off, but Castiel and Hannah know well enough what he means.

“I will do what I can,” Castiel replies with a nod. “Hannah…”

Hannah looks dubiously between Sam and Dean, and Castiel presses. “Please.”

Hannah nods, and Sam steps back. He feels relief rush through him as Dean’s wounds start to heal under the golden light coming from Hannah and Castiel’s palms, their grace pushing past Jesse’s stasis field and pulling Dean back to the world of the living.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

He’s finally done something right.

“He’ll be asleep for a few more hours for the healing to take,” Hannah warns, and Sam nods.

Sam sees Cas’ hand coming towards him and rears back sharply. “Cas, what are you doing?”

Cas looks hurt for a moment, then guilty, remembering what happened the last time he touched Sam without warning. “You are severely injured, Sam. Let me heal you.”

“What, this? Don’t worry about it, Cas. It’ll heal up fine on its own; don’t waste your grace on me.”

There’s an expression on Cas’ face that Sam doesn’t quite recognise. It’s similar to the one he wore when Gadreel begged him to spare him, but gentler. Cas huffs softly and reaches for Sam again.

“Cas - no - << _conserve your grace._ >>

Castiel freezes and Hannah looks like she might cry.

Sam swallows down the blood rising at the back of his throat and grimaces. “Uh. Sorry.”

“You… no one has spoken that since Lucifer Fell,” Hannah whispers.

Sam cringes slightly. “Yeah, well. I spent more than enough time with Lucifer and Michael to pick it up.”

“You are still suffering the aftereffects of the ritual,” Castiel points out gravely.

Sam shrugs. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you will not let me heal you, then perhaps Hannah…?”

“Of course,” Hannah agrees immediately, “I’d be glad to.”

Sam glances at her dubiously, but then nods. “Thank you.”

Hannah touches two fingers to his forehead and her grace washes over him, cold as ice and he’s back in the Cage, no, no, he can’t do this again, _mercy mercy please mercy -_

“Sam?!”

\- _Whatever you want please have mercy I beg of you -_

“Sam!”

Sam crashes to his knees, the pain from hitting the hardwood floor jarring him back to the present. There’s blood dribbling down his chin and his throat burns like acid, and his everything else still hurts.

_Fuck._

“What - what happened?” Hannah whispers, and now she actually is crying.

“I - I’m sorry,” Sam mutters, straining against the urge to bow, press his forehead against the floor and beg for mercy.

Too close. After everything, the Cage is far too close.

“Your grace,” Sam rasps, trying to swallow back the blood, “It’s - cold. Like Lucifer’s. I -“

Sam drops his gaze, focusing on the feel of the floor under his knees, the rough scratch of denim under his palms, the firm press of the bandages around his ribs.

Focus.

Control.

“Perhaps we should call someone else,” Castiel murmurs.

“It’s fine,” Sam replies slowly, “Like I said, this will heal up in a few weeks.”

“We’re angels, Sam,” Hannah answers softly, “Our purpose is to aid and protect humans. Please, let us do this.”

Sam wants to protest, say that he doesn’t fall under that mission, that he doesn’t deserve it, _why should he when he’s the Abomination, a creature of filth and sin,_ but Castiel and Hannah have already turned away, calling for another angel.

There’s the flutter of wings, and another woman appears in the room.

“I’m not healing him,” Flagstaff says flatly, and Sam lowers his head in acceptance. Someone understands. If he just stays here, perfectly still, maybe they’ll get bored and leave. It’s worked before, sometimes.

“We’re not asking you to heal Dean,” Cas says mildly, “It’s Sam who needs help.”

Sam can see Flagstaff turn towards him at the edges of his vision, and he clenches his fists, keeping his head bowed. There’s a part of him crying that _he’s not in the Cage anymore, he’s not, he’s not,_ and he needs to think past the gibbering fear of angels surrounding him, because they’re not Michael and Lucifer, they’re not going to hurt him, _they’re not -_ but he _deserves_ it, the sinner, the failure, the damned.

Flagstaff touches two fingers to his forehead, and Sam tenses, waiting for the pain -

\- It never comes. Flagstaff’s grace isn’t hot or cold, it’s like a distant storm, power contained and safety. Her grace washes through him, pushing back the memories of the Cage enough for him to think clearly.

Wow. His self-control is total shit.

Sam breathes deeply as the pain across his body fades, bruises and cuts and cracked bones healing. He peels off the dressing on his eye, and blinks up at Flagstaff, taking her outstretched hand to help him stand.

“Thank you,” he says fervently.

Flagstaff looks at him consideringly and then glances at Dean. “No, Sam. Thank _you._ ”

“What did her grace feel like?” Hannah asks curiously.

Flagstaff’s brow furrows, and Sam blinks. “Ah, sheet lightning - faraway sheet lightning, before the storm hits, y’know? Were you close to Raphael?”

“Yes,” Flagstaff admits, surprised, “Sensing the nuances of an angel’s grace is a rare talent.”

Sam shrugs uncomfortably. “Yeah, well. Michael and Lucifer had to be good for something.”

* * *

“So that was Sam Winchester. To be honest, he’s not what I expected.”

Castiel looks Flagstaff sharply. “Sam is a good man. He is more than the abomination, more than Lucifer’s vessel.”

Flagstaff inclines her head. “I’m amazed he’s related to Dean.”

Castiel’s jaw clenches, but there’s not much he can say in the face of Dean having been a demon.

“He was afraid,” Flagstaff muses sadly, “So afraid. He… He mistook us for our brothers, didn’t he.”

Castiel nods. “It’s very likely. Memories of the Cage are a constant presence in Sam’s life, more so now that he’s using the knowledge he gained there.”

“I’m amazed he’ll let an angel near him after what he’s suffered,” Hannah admits, “It’s a miracle.”

Castiel smiles. “ _Sam_ is a miracle.”

* * *

Sam glances back at his sleeping brother, smiling slightly. “It’s gonna be okay, Dean. I promise.”

He strips off the rest of his bandages, relaxing at the sight of his unmarred skin. Bearing the scars from when Dean - from when he was strung up in front of Dean - will just make moving forward harder for the both of them. There’s already so much between them that needs to be resolved, adding another piece of baggage between them isn’t going to help anything.

He steps outside Dean’s room and nearly walks into the angels still standing outside. “What - Uh, you guys are still here?”

Flagstaff looks him over, assessing him, and Sam almost feels the faint stirring of her under his skin. Hannah smiles slightly. “We wanted to see if there was anything else you needed. The children -“

There’s a distant crash from elsewhere in the bunker and Sam’s brow furrows. Are the teens still around? He sent them home long ago. “Wait, the kids are still here?”

Castiel looks at him oddly. “You didn’t know they were still in the bunker?”

Sam shakes his head. “I sent them home before I started praying -“

There’s another crash, followed by Ben’s shout and Jacob’s colourful swearing, and Sam winces. “I should go make sure that they don’t break anything else.”

The angels follow Sam as he makes his way through the corridors, and draw short at the scene in the common area.

“ _Boys._ ” The stern voice of Jody Mills snaps, “Separate. _Now._ ”

Ben and Jacob, having broken one of the tables, look up from their roughhousing on the floor rebelliously, and then quail at her look. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Sam clears his throat. “Uh. Hi, guys.”

The younger hunters turn and look up at his arrival, their faces lighting up. “Sam!”

“Oof,” Sam grunts lightly as Claire and Jesse tackle him in a hug.

“You’re all better!”

Sam smiles. “Yeah, good as new. What’s going on here?”

“We were waiting for you…” Claire’s attention shifts to the angels standing behind Sam and the smile drops from her face. “Oh. Who are _you?_ ”

Sam winces slightly. “They’re friends, Claire.”

“Friends of yours, or friends of the douchebag’s?”

Sam glances at the angels, unsure whether he can claim Hannah and Flagstaff as _friends_. “Flagstaff healed me, and Cas and Hannah healed Dean.”

Jacob snorts and Ben rolls his eyes. “Did you have to?”

Jody clears her throat from behind them, and they shoot up to their feet immediately, contrite. Sam rubs his forehead. “How did you two break the table _again?_ ”

“He started it!” Ben and Jacob protest immediately, pointing at each other.

“I don’t care _who_ started it,” Jody responds before Sam can roll his eyes, “ _Both_ of you are fixing it.”

“But Jesse can do that in, like, a second,” Ben points out.

“I will _not!_ ” Jesse replies, outraged.

Before anyone else can chime in, Claire’s angel blade appears in her hand, pointed directly at Castiel’s heart. “You. Back away from Sam.”

Sam’s eyes widen, and he glances back at Castiel, who looks chagrined. “Cas isn’t going to hurt me, Claire.”

“Like he _didn’t hurt_ my Dad?”

Castiel’s mouth turns down at the corners, and Sam winces.

“Eh, Flagstaff might be okay,” Jacob offers, coming up behind his girlfriend, “She did heal Sam. The other two can fuck off.”

“Manners, Jacob,” Jody warns, but it lacks the severity of before.

Hannah gasps. “Who are you to - Castiel is a hero!”

“He’s a douchebag,” Jacob and Claire replied bluntly.

“And we’re Sam’s kids,” Jesse replies, still holding onto Sam, “As good as, anyway.”

“Claire, we weren’t able to find the - whoa, we interrupting something?”

Everyone turns to see Tracy, Krissy, and Alex entering from the library, and Sam’s eyebrows rise. “Wasn’t expecting to see you guys here.”

Tracy shrugs. “I wanted to raid your library.”

Krissy and Alex elbow her in the side, and Krissy replies, “We heard you fixed Dean, so we wanted to see how things were going.”

Sam blinks. “… That was fast.”

Ben grins. “The wonders of modern technology, man. Word’s spreading through the entire community right now, news’ll make its rounds over the next few weeks.”

Sam shakes his head. “You guys didn’t have to do that. Dean and I’ll be fine, you didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

No one seems very impressed with Sam’s response, and Jacob turns on Castiel. “Pay attention, douchebag. This is what you and your demon not-boyfriend have done to the man who saved the world.”

Castiel looks stricken, and Flagstaff and Hannah are exchanging wary glances. Sam bites back a groan. “Jacob, Claire, go help Tracy find the book she wants.”

Claire sends one last glare at Castiel and then turns away.

Jacob points at the dark-haired angel. “You come within ten feet of my girlfriend, and I won’t stop her from stabbing you in the heart, understand?”

_“Jacob.”_

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Sam rubs his forehead again, absently tousling Jesse’s hair as the younger boy remains attached to his side.

Hannah stiffens. “Dean is waking up.”

“Already?!”

“So much for sleeping for a few hours,” Sam mutters under his breath. “Ben, Jesse, Krissy - look out for Jody and Alex.”

“What -“

“Sam, we can help -“

“No,” Sam replies firmly, “If something’s gone wrong, I don’t want any of you getting caught in the crossfire.”

“Sam!” Jesse protests, but Sam’s already striding away, angels following in his wake.

* * *

Dean wakes up in his room in the bunker and blinks.

Is this it? Is this his heaven?

He gets off his bed and stands, stretching his sore muscles. Okay, probably not Heaven, then. The last thing he remembers is getting stabbed by Metatron, and Sam…

… And Sam refusing to let him die.

Dammit.

It’s like Hell all over, demons and lies and making stupid choices without knowing the consequences. “Dammit, Sam,” he growls under his breath.

The door to his room slams open, and Dean barely hears Cas saying ‘He’s human, Sam,’ before he’s being hugged tightly by 6’ 4” and 210 lbs of relieved plaid - and unexpectedly bony - hunter. He hears a whispered ‘Thank God’ in his ears as his arms come up slowly. Whatever trouble the kid’s gotten himself into now by bringing Dean back, he’s still his little brother, and his instinct is still to hug back.

Sam pulls away, a smile spreading across his face as he looks Dean over. “It’s good to have you back, Dean.”

Dean almost lets it go, seeing the relief and joy on his little brother’s face, but then steels himself. Whatever trouble the kid’s gotten into now, they need to get ahead of it immediately. “What did you do, Sam?” he demands.

Sam looks confused, and dammit, this is just like coming back from Hell all over again, Sam thinking Dean would never find out about his dumbass choices if he was just _happy_ enough. “What - what do you remember, Dean?”

“I remember Metatron stabbing me in the chest. I remember telling you to _let me go,_ ” Dean sneered. “But we can all see how _that_ went.”

The expression falls away from Sam’s face. “… Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh._ After all that shit you gave me about what I did to save your life -“

“You turned into a _demon_ , you stupid ape!” a woman barks, and Dean turns to see the others gathered at his door. Cas stands with two female angels, one striding towards him angrily. “You took on the Mark of Cain, fell under the Blade’s lure like a _child_ , and turned into the worst of demons. You left a trail of bodies, until your brother nearly destroyed himself and _saved_ you, and _this_ is how you thank him?!”

“Who the Hell are you?” Dean snaps.

“This is Flagstaff, Dean,” Sam cuts in quickly, “She’s a friend of Cas’.”

Flagstaff, right. The bitchy angel with a stick up her ass that Cas asked him to interrogate.

“I’m supposed to believe this bullshit?”

“She’s right, Dean,” Sam says softly, and holds out his phone. “It’s been nearly two months since we fought Metatron. I’ll tell you the details if you want, but… it was rough, man.”

Sam looks so tired, and Dean feels his ire rise. Where does he get off looking like that, when Dean’s one with his world being shaken?

Flagstaff scoffs. “I’m returning to my post. Hannah?”

Hannah nods, a little unsure. “I think it would be best. We’ll see you when you’re done here, Castiel.”

Cas nods, and Sam smiles slightly. “Thanks again, for everything.”

Flagstaff and Hannah nod, before disappearing with the soft flutter of wings.

Dean turns to Cas. “Is it true?” he pleads, “Did I really…”

Dean sees Sam slump in the corner of his vision, and resists the urge to snap again. What, he’s not allowed to get a second opinion? God knows Sam’s an unreliable narrator.

Cas nods sadly. “I’m sorry, Dean. We couldn’t get to you before Crowley.”

“ _Crowley_ got to me?! Where the Hell is that smarmy bastard -“

“I, uh, I think you killed him, actually,” Sam cuts in.

Dean turns to him in shock. “Come again?”

Sam shrugs. “No one’s seen or heard from him since you - since you changed, not even demons.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “At least something good came out of it. So how’d you bring me back, Sammy? A deal? Demon blood? What mess are we in now?”

“Dean -“ Cas interrupts, brow furrowed, “Sam did nothing that would land you or him in more danger.”

Dean’s eyebrows rise, and he looks at Sam expectantly.

Sam rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “I and some other hunters got a spell from Cain. Hebrew, Aramaic, Cuneiform, Higher Enochian - old, old spells and warding. It took some doing, but we made it work in the end.”

“You went to Cain. And you didn’t think that would end badly.”

Sam snorts. “All he wanted was to die. And when we destroyed the First Blade, he died with it.”

Dean looks down at his arm, rolling up his sleeve to see bare skin where the Mark of Cain used to be. There’s a faint rush of disappointment at the loss of that kind of power, but Dean pushes it away. He’s out of the frier, no sense jumping back into the fire.

“I should get back,” Cas says reluctantly. “It’s good to have you back, Dean.”

Dean grins and claps his friend on the back. “It’s good to be back, man. You go whip those angels into line.”

Castiel smiles slightly and disappears.

Dean turns back to Sam. “So, what’ve we got to eat around here?”

* * *

“Things are a little chaotic in the bunker right now, sorry,” Sam apologises as they make their way through the corridors.

Dean smirks. “I disappear for a few weeks, and you start throwing keggers in my absence, Sam?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “A couple other hunters stuck around to make sure everything went okay.”

Sam and Dean return to the common area to find Jacob attempting to screw one of the table legs back in place under Alex’s watchful eye, while Claire and Jesse argue animatedly over a book.

Jacob’s the first to notice them. “Head’s up, everyone’s favourite emotionally abusive murderer is back,” he calls out, and the other stop what they’re doing and look up.

“Jake…”

Dean frowns. “The Hell did you say to me, punk?”

Jacob shrugs and sits up. “You did kill my mother, I don’t know what else you expect me to call you.”

Sam places a hand on Dean’s shoulder before he can move towards Jacob, and Jesse attempts to diffuse the rising tension. “Sam, Claire doesn’t believe me that Temeluchus was an angel of judgment.”

Sam blinks. “That’s because he wasn’t - not in the end, anyway. After that long in Hell, he turned away from his purpose as God’s arbiter of judgment and just tortured souls as a demon.”

“Was?”

“How do you even _know_ that?” Dean asks, bewildered.

Sam shrugs. “I killed him.”

Everyone stares at Sam. Sam’s lips twist wryly. “He took on the name Alistair. Hell’s best torturer.”

Dean’s expression blanks beside him, and Jacob makes a strangled noise. “Dude. How have you not taken over the world yet?!”

Sam rolls his eyes, moving into the room. “Sure, Jake. I’ll get right on that. Where’s everyone else?”

“Jesse told us everything was okay, so Tracy disappeared into the stacks, and everyone else went to make lunch.”

Dean frowns. “Jesse… Wait, Jesse Turner, the Antichrist?!”

Jesse waves.

“What the Hell, Sam, one monster wasn’t enough for you?”

“They’re not monsters, Dean,” Sam replies evenly, stepping in front of Jake and Jesse, ready to shield them, “They’re good kids.”

Dean scoffs.

Sam gestures towards Jacob. “Jake, give me the screwdriver. You’re never going to get the leg standing evenly that way.”

“Oh thank God,” the teen mutters, scrambling away from the table.

“And do not attempt to kill Dean while my back is turned,” Sam warns.

“You never let me have any fun!”

“Would you rather I made you run laps for breaking the table - did you wrap this with Scotch tape?!”

“No, Sir!”

* * *

Tracy reappears later, after Sam’s dragged Jacob back into fixing the table, and Dean watches them from the other table, leaning back in his chair, legs propped up on the table. 

“Can I borrow this?” Tracy asks, holding up a book.

Sam turns to her and frowns. “Uhh… Do you read Spanish?”

“Pretty well, yeah.”

“Use the Spanish version, it was updated last year.”

Tracy flashes him a smile. “Got it.”

“Just make a note that you’re taking it,” Sam calls out as she disappears into the stacks.

“Since when did we become a library?” Dean demands as he rights his chair and puts his feet back on the ground. “I thought she hated you, anyway.”

Sam shrugs, smiling awkwardly. “It’s been an interesting few weeks.”

The voice of boy singing ‘YMCA’ slightly out of tune floats down from near the kitchen, and Jacob calls out, “You sound like a dying cat, Braeden!”

Dean stiffens. ‘YMCA’ goes sharply out of tune and actually _does_ sound like a dying cat, and Claire slaps her boyfriend upside the head.

Ben appears at the mouth of the corridor, carrying a nearly empty bag of kale. “Hey, Sam, we’re going to run out of -“ Ben stops abruptly, his expression shutting down. “Oh. _You_.”

Dean shoots to his feet and stares at him, eyes wide. “… _Ben?!_ ”

Ben gives him a cold once-over and turns sharply on his heel. “I’m going back to the kitchen.”

“Ben -“

Ben flips him off over his shoulder without looking back.

Dean rounds on Sam furiously. “What the _Hell_ , Sam?! I warned you -“

“I really don’t think you want to punch your brother in the presence of two _monsters_ and a hunter who would happily kill you to protect him,” Jesse comments serenely.

Sam gives a long-suffering sigh and buries his head in his hands. How, exactly, did he wind up with these kids?

Dean growls and looks at the teens gathered around him. Alex is the only one not glaring daggers at him, but the former blood slave doesn’t exactly look friendly, either. Fucking Hell. After Ruby and Madison, he really should know the company Sam prefers to keep.

Dean unclenches his fist and drops back in his chair, glaring churlishly.

* * *

 

“So, how’s school going, Krissy? You been on any good hunts lately?”

Lunch is an awkward affair, despite Jody and Sam’s valiant affairs to prevent it. Jesse’s sitting cross-legged along with Tracy on the table, while Claire sits on a nearby couch, with Jacob perches on the armrest. Ben and Krissy are perched against the table beside Jesse, with Ben glaring at Dean and Krissy refusing to meet his eyes.

Sam’s not sure if Ben and Krissy are still doing their dating-not-dating thing, but from the way Krissy keeps reaching for Ben’s arm, they might be. Alex sprawls out at the feet of Claire’s chair, in a habit no one is entirely comfortable thinking about where she picked up.

Krissy nods, staring down at her food. “School’s going good. Jo and I tackled a rougarou out west a while back, Jo’s graduation celebration.”

Dean frowns. “Everything alright, kid?”

“You mean apart from you trying to torture and kill her?” Jacob says brightly, eyes glittering with malice.

Dean looks at Krissy sharply. “Krissy? Did I…?”

Krissy nods and then squares her shoulders, finally meeting Dean’s gaze. “It was - yeah. You did. You were a demon, and you needed our blood for some ritual -“

“Krissy, what I did back then - you gotta know that wasn’t me,” Dean pleads, “You know I would never hurt you!”

“That’s what I thought, too, Dean,” Krissy replies unhappily, “I trusted you - and you tried to kill me. If it wasn’t for Sam, I’d be dead right now. Tracy and Claire, too.”

Dean looks stunned and distressed. “Krissy -“

Tracy sets down her plate and snorts, hopping off the table. “Yeah, I don’t have to listen to this bullshit anymore. Thanks for lunch, guys, but I’m gonna head out. Krissy, you coming?”

“Yeah.” Krissy nods. “Thanks for lunch, Jody, Sam.” She glances back at Dean. “It’s good to have you back, Dean. Stay out of trouble.”

“Thanks for the books, Sam,” Tracy adds, picking up the stack of books.

“Wait -“

Tracy hisses and wrenches Dean’s hand away from her before he can touch her, nearly breaking his wrist. “You don’t get to touch me. Not after what you did!”

Dean rears back, and Sam sighs. “Tracy, Dean doesn’t remember anything from the last few weeks, remember?”

Tracy sneers. “Well that’s fan-fucking-tastic for him, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve still got a gash up the back of my arm that _he_ put there.”

Sam immediately frowns, standing and moving towards her. “Did it get infected? Do you need the stitches replaced?”

Tracy blinks and shakes her head. “What? No, they’re holding. If this hunting thing doesn’t work out for you, Sam, you should think about becoming a surgeon.”

Sam chuckles. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Tracy and Krissy are gone before Dean can formulate a response.

“Jody, can we head out, too?” Alex asks, clambering to her feet.

Jody frowns slightly, but nods. “Once the clean-up’s done, sure.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Sam replies easily, “Ben’ll take care of it.”

“I what?!” Ben demands, outraged.

Sam looks at him evenly. “Jake fixed the table, you get to clean it.”

Ben opens his mouth to protest, but promptly shuts it under both Sam and Jody’s disappointed parent looks. They’re as bad as his Mom’s used to be, maybe even worse.

“I’ll give you guys a lift,” Jesse adds, taking Alex’s hand as he gets down from the table.

Jody smiles and hugs Sam. “You take care of yourself, alright? Try not to get killed for at least a month.”

Sam grins. “I’ll do my best. Scout’s honour.”

Jody turns and hugs Dean as well. “And you, stay out of trouble, Mister.”

Dean smirks. “Yes, Ma'am.”

Alex squeezes Sam’s hand with half a smile, and then reaches back for Jesse.

They’re gone in a flash of shadow.

* * *

Ben, Jake, and Claire staunchly refuse to leave Sam alone with Dean, ignoring Sam’s attempts to assure them that he’ll be fine.

“Let’s run down the last few weeks, shall we,” Jacob snaps when they’re in the library, “Dickbag over there turned himself into a demon, killed a bunch of people, tried to kill you and Ben, killed more people, tortured and tried to kill you, went back to killing people until you undemonified him. Did I miss anything?”

Claire pinches the bridge of her nose as Ben adds, “You missed the whole Sam nearly destroying himself to save him to the point that even angels noticed it and yonder asshole still being an ungrateful dick in denial about it.”

Jacob nods. “Thank you.”

Sam groans, burying his head in his hands. “Oh my God.”

“This is none of your business!”

Claire grabs Jacob’s arm before he can lengthen his nails into claws. “You running around trying to kill people I care about is _damn well_ my business,” Jacob retorts.

“That wasn’t me!” Dean protests.

“Really? Because it sure as Hell looked and felt like you when we pinned your sorry carcass down so Jesse and Sam could destroy the Mark,” Ben snarls.

“I would never - that was the demon, the Mark, alright? I wasn’t me, I would _never_ have done any of that!”

“The Mark turned you into something you weren’t,” Sam replies gently, “I get that.”

Jacob sputters in Claire’s grip. “Oh my God - _Oh my god,_ I can’t be hearing this. _Sam!_ ”

“Jacob,” Claire warns, tugging on his arm again, and Ben looks back warily, but Jacob bulldozes on, his voice rising in fury.

“He _tortured_ you for two fucking hours, tried to shove demon blood down your throat - _you were in bandages and couldn’t see out of one eye for two weeks because of him_. That was all him - _he’s_ the one who turned into a demon because he has the fucking ‘heart of a killer’ or whatever - have some self-respect, Sam!”

“ _Jacob!_ ” Ben and Claire snap.

Jacob grinds to halt and finally sees what his anger had missed - Sam’s shoulders hunched slightly, his expression blanking as he draws into himself. His breath catches in his throat. “Sam - I -“

Dean snorts. “I told you, kid, this ain’t any of your business -“

“Dean,” Sam cuts in, steeling himself, “He’s not completely wrong.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “What the Hell -“

“Look, what you did because of the Mark - that’s over. But what lead up to that - that’s still not okay, Dean. I put it aside to fight Metatron, to save you, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone.”

Dean scowls. “This again? I saved your life, Sam!”

“Your definition of ‘saving’ is bullshit if it covers torture and mind-rape, asshole,” Ben snarls. His lips twist into a bitter smile. “But that’s not really new territory for you, is it?”

Dean rears back slightly. “I was doing it to protect you!”

Ben rolls his eyes and turns away.

“Look,” Sam says evenly, drawing Dean’s attention to himself, “I didn’t come here to pick a fight.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Dean -“

“Whatever,” Dean says abruptly, pushing away from the table and standing. “You want to hold a grudge, fine. You know where to find me when you put on your big boy panties and remember that I _saved your life_ and have _always_ been there for you.”

Sam’s expression blanks completely. “Look, this conversation isn’t getting us anywhere. Get some rest, Dean. I’ll come get you for dinner.”

Claire slips her hand into Sam’s as they leave the library, Ben and Jacob flanking them like bodyguards. They can feel Dean’s glare burning into their backs, but if it hits them, maybe it won’t hit Sam.

Maybe they can spare him that, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Please, let me know!
> 
> If anything in here stirs the need for discussion in you, shoot me a message. You can also find more of my thoughts on Sam Winchester here: http://queen-of-carven-stone.tumblr.com/tagged/Sam-Winchester
> 
> You can also find snippets and headcanons for SWSH here: http://queen-of-carven-stone.tumblr.com/tagged/The-Sam-Winchester-School-of-Hunting


End file.
